Yes, I'm proud of him, and I feel as safe as if he were here to say, in his hearty, earnest way: 'I wish you good luck, Stafford! And may God bless you, my dear!'" He flushed and laughed as if a little ashamed of his emotional way of putting it.
"He's full of--of the milk of human kindness, is my father," he said, with a touch of simplicity which was one of the thousand and fifteen reasons why Ida loved him.
She gazed up at him thoughtfully and sighed.
"I hope he will like me," she said, all the pride which usually characterized her melted by her love.

"I am sure that I shall like him--for loving you." "You will see," said Stafford, confidently.

"He will be as proud as a duke about you.

You won't mind if he shows it a little plainly and makes a little fuss, Ida?
He's--well, he's used to making the most of a good thing when he has it--it's the life he has led which has rather got him into the way of blowing a trumpet, you know--and he'll want a whole orchestra to announce you.

But about your father, dearest?
Shall I come to-morrow and ask for his consent ?" She looked up at him with doubt and a faint trouble in her beautiful eyes, and he heard her sigh regretfully.
"I am afraid," she said, in a low voice.
"Afraid ?" He looked at her with a smile of surprise.